Curse of the Mask II
by p0ke37
Summary: A father and son must stick together as the last defenders of Albion.
1. A Dark Ritual

Business was quite slow that evening. The owner and bartender of the Sandgoose sighed for the eleventh time in the last half hour as he inspected a draft glass on the wooden shelf behind the bar. Deciding the glass was not clean enough, he grabbed a rag and began to wipe it until he was thoroughly satisfied. He put the glass back on the shelf as a bead of sweat from his forehead dropped to the floor, as a fly dropped dead of exhaustion from the ceiling, as the first customer of the evening walked in.

Or rather, two customers, as the bartender noticed from a squinted eye. Both were hooded black robes, one male, one female. The male pointed a pale finger to one of the rooms, and the bartender nodded. "That'll be five gold," said the bartender, The female fingered a pouch on her belt, and gave the bartender the appropriate amount of coins. As they turned, and headed towards their room, the bartender caught a glimpse of movement in a bag thrown atop the male's shoulder. And instantly he knew they must be necromancer's from the Temple of Shadow.

Knowing that it was foolish to do so, the bartender waited a few minutes and began to sneak to peek into the two necromancer's room. He had a feeling that something was very unusual, and he stood on his toes to see into the room through the window.

The two necromancers, now with their hoods down, had begun to open the large sack. One of them pulled out a black cat, no doubt dead. The female removed a dagger from its sheath on her robes belt. She sliced the skin of the cat, letting the blood pour out. With two fingers she began to spread the blood of the cat in the shape of a star, enclosed by a circle, as the male grabbed a book and began to leaf through it.

Outside the room, in the hallway, the bartender was very concerned by what he saw, but yet knowing that nothing could happen. The necromancers from the Temple of Shadows were just fools weren't they? So the bartender stood there, watching, and he pressed his ear against the wood slightly to hear the conversation inside.

A masculine, accented voice came from within. "Sister," he said, "now we must begin to read."

"Yesss brother," was the snakelike reply.

The brother began to read aloud from the book in a tongue the bartender could not understand. The reading continued for several minutes, until a humming noise began and the two necromancer's turned silent.

And then they both screamed. The snap of wood and bone was heard, and the bartender was stricken with fear outside. The bartender turned and ran, but tripped over the leg of a chair and landed hard on the floor. He managed to turn on his back, and he heard the male necromancer choke on his own blood. The door was kicked open, knocked off of its hinges by a crimson robed and hooded figure.

The murderer strode over to the bartender and lifted him by his throat with a gauntleted hand. The bartender screamed as a blade was thrust through his stomach and out his back, and the last thing he ever saw was an ornate porcelain mask.

* * *

Many miles away, in the late hours of Bowerstone, King Sparrow of Albion had just fallen asleep, and had quite the mysterious dream...


	2. The Dream

"What a curious sight," Sparrow thought aloud. The clouds above him were green against an orange sky – two colors that clearly have no reason being paired with each other. The sky did not hold his attention very long, for soon his vision shifted to the field of blue grass that began extending in every direction, with him in the center. "What in the name of Light?" he questioned again.

But the blue grass was just the beginning of the oddities. Soon, circles of red were highlighted in the blue grass, and then the earth began to spew up as fifty statues – _were they statues?_ – rose headfirst.

No, not statues, but gargoyles, Sparrow corrected himself. And, as he quickly counted, there were fifty of them.. Fifty gargoyles that alternated between jet black and ivory white, forming a perfect circle around Sparrow, with about a perfect foot between them. Not only that, but all fifty of the gargoyles pointed directly at Sparrow, the white gargoyles smiling, hooded figures of the light; as the black sculptures frowned and jeered, masked messengers of the darkness.

The gargoyles began to glow an eerie color that could only be compared with the shade of human blood, and then Sparrow heard a voice directly behind him.

As he spun around, the entire world seemed to blind him with a bright white light, and then a great shadow eclipsed the whole of his vision.

"Hello Sparrow," said a familiar voice. A voice close to Sparrow, yet so long gone... Could it be? Could it be... Rose?

"Yes, little brother." replied Sparrow's long-dead and much-aged sibling, the one he fought for all those years ago, the one he defeated Lucien for.

"R-rose!" he managed to choke out. And then she appeared before him, much older, next to a robed skeletal figure that used a cane for support. It looked as if he had never eaten a meal in his life.

"Brother," she whispered, as she caressed the wrinkles of time on his face. She looked fondly at him, into his eyes, but with an underlying sadness.

She was not here to visit then. Sparrow had an accurate intuition, and it wasn't to let him down this time. He grimaced as she confirmed his suspicion by kissing him on the cheek, and embracing him for a few moments. She turned, to go, to leave sparrow with the skeletal man, but she decided against it and did a double-take and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "One day, we will never be separated again." Her eyes welled with tears, and she nodded at the hooded figure besides her before dissipating into thin air.

There was not a doubt in the eye of Sparrow's mind that the old man could not speak. He could barely support himself with a cane. But he looked Sparrow dead in the eye, and Sparrow's dream took a drastic change of setting. The strange and vibrant colors of the world shifted to darkness: black, red, and gray. The sky turned a menacing blood red, and indeed tiny droplets of human ichor began falling from the heavens as far off thunder boomed in Sparrow's ears. The earth began to shake violently, causing Sparrow to lose balance and fall, but strangely enough, not the old man. Sparrow's vision blacked out momentarily, and then the world became still. Sparrow regained his balance, got on his feet, and searched for the old man, but to no avail.

And then it came to be that right before him, out of the pools of crimson that dotted the crevices in the earth, a pedestal was formed. And on top of the altar, with a shimmering glow of red, came to be a mask. A mask, Sparrow noted, that could only be described as ancient, vividly purple and red, and porcelain.

And indescribably... evil. Evil had been a term that Sparrow had always struggled to define. As hero of Bowerstone, many had though him to have conquered the ultimate evil of Lucien and the spire. But Sparrow never believed that Lucien was evil... the commandant maybe, but Lucien was just...

He was just misguided, Sparrow concluded. And so was I, he thought.

And so he was. Sparrow walked up to the altar, and tried on the mask.


	3. Brian

Sparrow awoke violently from his dream, not in his castle, but in the sky high above the peaks of Mount Ruon. He had no idea how he got there, but he remembered his dream, and the mask. He knew that somehow, that dream was more reality than he could've imagined at the time.

He opened his mouth wide and screamed as he plummeted towards his doom.

* * *

It was that hour of the morning in Bowerstone.

It was that one hour between the moon setting and the sun rising, when the human heart slows to a crawl and the world seems at equilibrium. It was that one hour that Brian, son of Sparrow, slowly creaked his door open and tiptoed silently through the castle, holding his breath and stopping still in his tracks at any sound of movement, or the flicker of torchlight from one of the castle's many halls.

What he was doing was not bad – technically. The only protocol he was breaching was sneaking into the castle library without his father's permission. And that isn't such a crime, now is it?

Not for Brian, it wasn't. You see, Brian was the talk of much of Bowerstone. He was a popular, athletic fifteen-year-old kid, who demanded the attention of all women his age. Brian also seemed to show exceptional leadership and intelligence, as determined by his private tutors. But he was not always that way – for at one point, Brian had become a will user.

It all happened one day, when Brian was no more than eight years old. His father was out some kind of diplomatic mission, and Brian was left in the castle by himself, with only the butler Jeeves to accompany him. Brian was exploring the various halls and hiding from his tutors, when he came across a wall that looked out of place. He stared at the stone fixture that blocked his path, until suddenly, it began to slide out of his way. Curious as he was, Brian went into the tunnel that the stone wall had previously encased.

The tunnel was paved by very old stone, and lit by torchlight – blue torchlight. Brian did not then know it, but he had just seen his first display of will – the tunnel would only open to those who had the blood of a will user in them.

The tunnel did not go on for very long until it came to a perfectly domed room, with several shelves stuffed with alchemical objects and books, with one book in particular that caught his eye. It was a blue tome, with a gold binding and a star on the front. It was on a glass table, and it's title was clear and bold as Brian sat down on the finely carved chair next to it.

The title read: _Basic Spells_.

* * *

The first question he asked himself when he came to, was "Where am I?"

A splitting headache greeted Sparrow as images began to flood into his brain. Rubble surrounded him, and several heavy stones rested on his bruised and battered body.

He mustered up enough strength to get the stones off, and stood up with much difficulty and pain. He knew that several bones were broken, and he was in no condition to use will to heal himself. He would have to wait it out, as the blood of the heroes would slowly bring him the strength needed to escape his moonlit prison. Which, by the way, he judged to be a crevice a quarter-mile abyss, set between two of the Ruon range peaks.

Unfortunately for him, waiting it out would not be an option. The pale glow of the moon was nothing compared to the dark red glow of evil. Something was down there with him.


	4. Battle and Mystery

Centuries-Old paintings and dusty history books were literature that taught Sparrow everything he knew about demons. Demons were mythical and purely evil creatures, that were said to come from an entirely different world. Then why was it that Sparrow was now surrounded by four of them, armed to the teeth while he himself was in severe pain, with no weapon and a slim chance of being able to cast his will?

The evil that manifested around him began its assault.

The first one, covered head to toe with thick scales that would no doubt best many swords, attacked first. It struck at Sparrow with an extended talon from its left arm. Sparrow managed to dodge, heart pumping and threatening of failure. The scaly demon flipped over and above Sparrow, and managed to sink a razor-sharp claw into his back. Sparrow shrieked from pain, and then blasted white energy from behind him, directly into the heart of the demon, killing it instantly.

But this act was not without its consequence. Sparrow's franticly beating heart doubled in pace and his body seemed to ignite with pain. He was momentarily blinded, and came to just as a vicious saw-blade was an inch away from severing his head in two.

Sparrow managed to collapse on the hard, stone floor as he heard the ring of the sword slicing through air above him. He rolled to his left as the blade came down and pierced into the solid floor. It was then that Sparrow saw his attacker, who seemed to be made entirely out of ice – red ice. The ice titan gave up on retrieving his sword and lunged at the weakened Sparrow. Knowing that great pain would follow, Sparrow shot a great fireball at the titan, and was greeted with a lukewarm splash before the titan landed. The pain this time made Sparrow see stars, and his vision did not return until after the third demon landed a mighty kick into Sparrow's side, sending him flying into the walls of the abyss.

Sparrow landed with a thud onto the chilled earth, knowing that he would not survive another minute unless he endured the pain and defeated the last two demons.

His eyes flew open, and he jumped to his feet, nimble and in disregard of pain. The third demon was a giant of ten feet, with an extremely musculature body – and four huge arms about the thickness of tree trunks. He sped right at Sparrow, and Sparrow shot himself upwards with a spell. The creature slammed into the wall, disoriented, and Sparrow landed atop the fourth demon. The fourth demon was jet black, and didn't have a chance before Sparrow snapped it's neck, sending it back to oblivion*.

So that left him with his last adversary, who was now quite aware and red with rage. The demon roared with rage, sending the heavy boulder atop him smashing into his head, killing on impact.

And with that, Sparrow collapsed.

* * *

The Kingdom of Albion was in panic. The King had mysteriously gone missing overnight. And although leaving unexpectedly was mysterious enough, the King had left his blade and rifle untouched, indicating that something had happened.

Of course this news was kept from the public, and specifically Brian. The patrons and servants of the castle protected the secret very well, but Brian began to wonder when he did not see his father at breakfast nor dinner, and he was no fool. And he had magic of his own. When the night fell the second night, Brian cast himself invisible and managed himself into his father's private lair. When he found that no note was given and his father's weapons were left alone, he grabbed the book that was on the floor, and headed quickly to the alchemy lab that he had discovered magic in.

He knew that somewhere in the lab, and possibly in the book he held in his hands, that the answer to his father's disappearance would be found.


	5. Blood on the Altar

As the Temple of Light got its first taste of morning as the morning sun began to bathe Albion with light. Droplets of dew collected among blades of cool grass, and the monks noticed one visitor walking up the path, bright and early. Monks by nature, are creatures of rumor, and they began to estimate how much this new person would donate to the temple. Some said ten gold, some said one hundred, and others still a thousand or more. The high-betting monks had no reason to second guess as their visitor kept his body and face pointed forward, heading straight to donations.

The Head Monk smiled widely as he held out an outstretched hand to the visitor, who surprised the Head Monk when his hand was met by the coolness of metal. He was briefly startled by his visitor when he looked into his face to see darkness, concealed by the scarlet of his hood. But it did not matter, as long as he was here to shell out some coin, the Head Monk did not care.

The Head Monk spoke first. "Welcome to the temple of Light!" and he quickly turned the hand shake into an embrace, and the monk noted duly that his visitor was clad entirely in chain-mail underneath his sanguine robe. But the visitor stood still, and when the monk stopped the embrace he lowered his hood to reveal a porcelain mask, ornately decorated.

The visitor coughed. "Do you know who I am?" he asked. When the monk did not reply, he spoke deeply, "I am the Jack of Blades."

The Monk looked confused. Jack laughed. "Well then you shall soon know."

The world seemed to slow down as Jack unsheathed a sword, the blade styled after a Katana, and ran it through the pitiful head monk before him. Screams filled the air as blood filled the altar of donations and the soul of the head monk was Jack's.

Jack turned quickly, and leapt through the high arch of the temple, landing his blade through the skull and spine of another monk. The blue soul rose and went into his mask.

The slaughter continued as he quickly hunted down the monks, and when he finished he was met by a force town guards. The surrounded him, and Jack did a somersault , landing behind a guard, and snapping his neck with the quick motion of his hands. Two gunshots were fired at Jack, but both missed, and Jack threw his katana at one of the guards. Red stained blue as that guard went down, and Jack began to fistfight the remaining three men. One tried to hit Jack with a sideswipe, but Jack parried with an uppercut that cracked his opponents jaw. Jack swung his heel around, right into the crotch of a guard, who dropped his sword that had previously been held high. The final guardsmen realized the situation he was in, and began to run. Jack picked up one of the guns, and not knowing what it was, chased after the guard and began to bludgeon him until he was dead and the gun resembled a bow.

Jack finished off the knocked out guards, and sheathed his katana. He then left the temple, already stronger than when he came.

* * *

There is indeed a void, and it is a horrible place. The evil beings of the world are taken there to be punished for eternity, and Jack of Blades was the most powerful inhabitant of the void.

And, at the moment, he was the most furious being in the entirety of the void. For through his crystal ball, Jack had witnessed the impostor kill an entire school of monks, wearing his mask. But all was well for Jack of Blades, as his mask had indeed made it to the land of Albion. It had taken nearly five hundred years, but with the slip of tongue of two necromancers, he had nearly succeeded in completing his mission. He would soon walk the land of Albion again, and soon, Albion would burn, just as it did in the days before William Black.


	6. Unification

If the king would've been maddened by his son finding out about his disappearance, he would've been enraged to know that the castle patrons had no idea where his son was. The castle stewards had no idea where Brian was, and there were rumors of him sneaking out of the castle at night.

But Sparrow knew.

* * *

A brilliant flash of bright light was enough for Sparrow to ready himself with will, ready to meet any new challenger in his stone prison.

But as the pure light slowly faded, in front of him was his son. And in his sons hand was a very dusty and beaten book, whose title read: _Teleportation for dummies_. Sparrow laughed, and walked forward to embrace his son.

"Hello, dad," said Brian.

"Hello, Brian. Looks like you've got some explaining to do."

"Looks like you've got a bit more than me, dad."

United as father and son in a terrible world, they laughed.

* * *

In the Void, Jack of Blades smiled, as the time was almost near.

* * *

The impostor of Jack laughed to himself, and he knew that on this moonlit night, the real Jack would soon be ready to meet his impostor in battle. But this did nothing to shake him, he knew very well what Jack could do, and how to beat him.

The impostor already fought Jack once. A few thousand years had passed since that battle, and now it was all but completely forgotten.

William Black ate an apple as he awaited Jack of Blades.


	7. The Battle of Good and Evil

The apple core hit the ground, and William Black was taken to the void.

* * *

A place like the void is terrifying the first time. But the second time, it is absolute hell. William stood before Jack of Blades, on a wide plane surrounded by lava flow, and a fall of lava came from a river above. The heat was unbearable, and demons flew above and swam through the lava, and the stench of sulfur made William gag. William threw the bloody red robe he was wearing, revealing royal blue robes with the aforementioned chain-mail, and threw the mask aside, the mask that served as Jack's binding to Albion.

"Jack." said William through gritted teeth, as he fingered the blade hilt beside him.

"William," laughed Jack behind his mask.

The sound of far off thunder shook the ground, and William began to suspect that Jack was up to his old tricks. This was confirmed when Jack began to cackle maniacally, and several hundred demons could be seen marching from a hill about a mile away. William knew then that he would have to defeat Jack and escape before the army reached him, or the void would be the last place he would spend alive.

William unsheathed his longsword and sped towards Jack, white-hot energy bursting from fingertips and boots searing the ground. Jack raised his katana high in the air, and then ran right towards William. William, now a few feet away from Jack, leapt from the ground and into the air, slicing downward at Jack. Jack then parried, and William rolled on the ground and lifted his blade to deflect Jack's downward blow. William flipped backwards and formed a shield momentarily as a ball of flame hit him. The flame did not hurt him because of his shield, but it pushed William higher into the air.

About fifteen feet aerial, William commanded the earth below to rise into deadly spear-tipped spires. Jack dodged each of the spires, breaking on of them with a gauntleted blow. Jack picked up the broken spear and hurled it at William, who was focusing on landing safely. The spear sped past William, but grazed a bit of skin by his ear and sent blood trickling down the side of his head.

Both combatants on ground, Jack summoned several skeletons that quickly caught William off-guard. William punched the ground, and blue flames twisted in a sphere around William, turning the skeletal adversaries into ashes. William was stunned momentarily by a bolt of lightning from Jack's closed fist, but managed to redirect the energy back at Jack, who was thrown several feet backwards, into the base of a large boulder.

William charged, one hand holding blade, and the other conjuring deadly will power. William swiped a paw, and sent a super sonic wave at Jack and the rock, but Jack crossed his arms and a protective barrier of earth formed around him. The wave cracked the earth covering Jack, still leaving him unharmed, but the boulder behind smashed into a thousand pebble-sized pieces, some hitting both William and Jack and hurting both.

The footsteps of the army ahead were less than a half-mile away, and William knew that he would need to put on his heavy assault.

William dashed at Jack, charging his sword with energy. The two parried and deflected each others swords, until William sent one heavy wave of energy through his sword at Jack's. The katana flew out of Jack's hand and buried itself, blade first, into the earth. Jack charged his fists into a heavy assault at William, and Jack made one heavy slug at Williams fist, and his sword flew as well. The two unarmed combatants grappled, hands locked, each sending wave after wave of will energy at each other, perfectly matched. Then Jack landed a hard kick into Williams groin, making him fall onto his back in pain from the cheap shot. William briefly saw the flash of a dagger, and Jack lunged on top of William.

William grabbed Jacks dagger hand and wrenched it in the opposite direction, with the blade pointing at Jack. Jack moved their arms to the right, and head butted William in the nose, sending blood flying onto the mask and spewing all over William's face.

William rolled to the left, bearing the pain, and the dagger was now inching towards Jack.

"You fool!" screamed Jack. "You are a mere mortal, you cannot hope to defeat me!"

"I am no mere mortal, said William, sending blood flying. I am an ARCHON."

The small dagger blade buried itself in Jack's chest, and for a moment Jack and William were locked, tense, but then William felt Jacks lifeless body loosen up, dead. And just in time, William saw the first volley of arrows begin to fly from the advancing army. William turned, and ran.

And ran right into Jack's katana blade, exiting out Williams spine, shattering one of his bones. William could no longer feel below his stomach, and yet he saw the blood pour out. Before him was Jack of Blades, alive and well, and apparently fine despite just dieing from a dagger wound to the chest.

Jack laughed. "I told you boy, that you cannot stop me here. This is my realm, and I decide who dies."

William spat blood onto Jack's mask, and died.

_**A/N: I really hope you guys are enjoying this fic, and especially, this chapter! Please review, and give constructive critiscism! Please tell your friends about this story :). Stay tuned for more Curse of the Mask!**_


	8. Two Years Pass

Having defeated his age-old adversary and securing his foothold in the land of Albion, Jack of Blades bided his time in an old fort that had long been forgotten, and built he built his power slowly. Many a soul were killed wandering alone at night in the woods, and rumors came about that balverines had migrated near Bowerstone. King Sparrow was suspicious, and the feeling of evil that had struck his soul never left. Nonetheless, Sparrow taught his son the ways of physique, skill, and will; and Brian showed Sparrow the ancient guild seal hidden within the ancient tome. Father and son learned from each other, and Brian gradually became an even better will user than his father.

All was well it seemed, but on a snowy December night, more than two years after the death of William Black, Jack of Blades attacked Bowerstone.


	9. The Siege

Oaken oars licked the black water, breaking through the forming ice, and Jack of Blades smiled to himself. The night air was blistering cold, and many of the pirates among the ship could be heard grumbling from the lack of protection from the elements. Jack laughed, knowing that the temperature of the city would soon rise.

* * *

Brian, Prince of Bowerstone, awoke with a startle. Screaming pierced through the cold stone walls of the castle, and Brian quickly donned his coat, tucked his guild seal into his coat pocket, and grabbed his trusty rifle. The rifle was of a golden color, the best money could buy, and enchanted to shoot bullets that would shock and paralyze upon impact. Brian ran through his bedroom door, knowing that this would be the night he proved himself.

Brian ran down the stairs and knocked on his father's doors. His father appeared immediately, armed with an ancient longsword.

It had taken Jack two years to finally attack, and Brian and his father were ready.

"You know what to do, son."

"Yes," nodded Brian.

The two shook hands, and went in opposite directions of the castle. Brian went to the library, no longer needing to sneak for magical knowledge. Brian scaled the ladder leading to the top of the library, and jumped into a foxhole slide, getting him far away from the castle and into the dark, freezing cold.

* * *

Sparrow's blade cleaved an attacking pirate in two, and warm blood soaked onto Sparrow's clothing. He was in the eastern wing stairway, and the number of pirates was rising. Soon, the castle would be overrun.

Sparrow jumped, dodging a sideways cutlass swing. Five pirates were in front of him in the stairwell, and footsteps revealed another few coming up the stairs. Sweat filled Sparrow as he thrust-ed his blade through one of his attackers core. Blood flew, and Sparrow jumped backwards, leaving his blade embedded in the dead pirate. Sparrow had barely dodged a knife thrown at him that now embedded itself in the concrete wall. Sparrow quickly drew his side arm, and blasted through two pirates heads. He swung his pistol, cocking one pirate dead in the face, but was kicked in his hind quarters and fell face forward onto three dead and bloody pirates. Sparrow instinctively rolled to the left, and the blade came down onto another enemy, cleaving him in half. Sparrow retrieved his blade from the corpse and swung at his attacker, who was wearing a pink bandanna. The pink adorned man lost his arm and stood, unable to move, from the shocking augment in Sparrows blade. Sparrow kicked him as hard as possible in the groin, and the man fell over, dead, from the _crack!_ between his legs.

More pirates were coming up the stairwell.

* * *

Brian was disgusted at the damage done by the pirates, and in the shadows, he silently witnessed the horrors of their evils. The pirates were throwing torches at several buildings, breaking and looting others, and killing and raping wherever they went. Screams filled the air, and the cities temperature was rising. Bowerstone was burning.

Brian heard a group of three pirates coming down the alleyway, and he tensed himself, ready to attack.

"Aye, skipper, aye. Cap'n says we need ta check these dark alleyways for pris'ners." Said the first pirate, with cutlass in hand.

"Ah know tha' Bob, but where' me money? Ol' John from decks promised plenty o' loot and arse, an' aye ain' seen a damned bloody thing!" complained the second pirate.

"Grr, shut yer pie holes," growled the third pirate. "I smell a 'ero!"

Brian rolled and squeezed the trigger, blowing off the head of the first pirate and thoroughly taking the pirates by surprise. The second pirate drew a knife, and yelled, "Aye, ye throughly sodded me clot'in!"

The knife was thrown, and Brian smacked it to the side, an inch from his face. Brian grabbed the gun by the barrel and whacked the third pirate over the head, elbowed the second, and then held the gun around the neck of the second. The third pirate sliced at Brian's side, but Brian sidestepped, putting the second pirate in the path of the blade. The blade skewered his arm, and the second pirate screamed in pain. Brian nicked his hostages knife and brought it into the eye of the third pirate. The two pirates collapsed on the ground, still screaming.

Brian ran around the side of the alleyway, to the back of a building, and climbed a rickety ladder to the top. Brian got low and set up sniping position with his rifle, and loaded a musket ball.

Brian aimed, and a head suddenly exploded on the other side of the harbor.

* * *

Sparrow looked up at the castle briefly, now in flames. The entire castle would not burn down, but as a last resort Sparrow had to set the stairway on fire to slow the onslaught of pirates. The fire caught quickly, and spread very quickly. Jack of Blades would find everything destroyed in the non-enchanted area of the castle, which was everything except for Sparrow's alchemical lab, which was invented long ago by Leo Head.

Sparrow swatted aside a punch from yet another pirate, and returning his with full force. The pirates head caved in from Sparrow's brute strength, even in old age.

Sparrow sprinted to the town square, knowing that his son, and most importantly Jack, would be there.

* * *

The pirates were not complete idiots, and they eventually figured out that someone was taking them out. When they began to swarm Brian's building, his confidence took a dive.

Several pirates were climbing up the building on makeshift ladders to catch Brian, but Brian was deft and he jumped to another buildings ledge. Brian hopped farther and higher, eventually making a running leap for the roof of the blacksmith.

Brian landed, but the wood splintered beneath the force of his landing, but he saved himself by gripping the metal framing. He hoisted himself up, and torches rained down upon the rooftop. Brian dodged most, but one set his woolen coat afire, and he threw it off before it could catch his shirt on fire.

Brian was greeted by a wintry blast, and felt numbed from the cold. The roof began to catch flame, and he had to stay low to avoid being shot.

Brian had to let loose.

* * *

An astonished Sparrow looked up at his son on the rooftop of the smithy. Brian was levitating in the air above the roof, yelling very loud, with his head tilted back. White light formed a sphere around Brian, and the town began to shake.

Fire and ice began to explode from Brian's hands, and the screams of the citizens turned into the screams of the pirates.

Sparrow could not believe what he saw, and when only a handful of pirates remained out of a hundred, Sparrow saw Jack, laughing underneath the market place bell.

* * *

Brian collapsed and rolled off of the charred roof onto the cold, hard stone below. He was drained of all energy, and could not open his eyes, yet he could sense everything perfectly. Every little snowflake that came from the sky, he was connected to. The long dead spirits of the buildings around him, and the recently deceased pirates and citizens, he was connected to. His father and Jack of Blades, he was connected to. And the connection with his father told him to rise, and with Jack to sleep... and he _was_ so dreadfully tired.

* * *

Jack of Blades snarled as he effortlessly defended against Sparrow's attacks. "Your great successor, William Black, was MUCH stronger than you," he laughed.

Sparrow had no idea what he was talking about, but he knew his enemy. The very night that William Black had died, Sparrow knew of the evil that had just risen in Albion. For indeed, it was the dying wish of William, the first archon.

And so the decisive battle of Albion's future had begun.


	10. A Victory for Evil

Jack of Blades swung his katana at his enemy, and with the blades movements a trail of fire was slashed into the frozen air. Sparrow countered Jack's attacks with his own, silently willing his son to rise from the pavement. Sparrow dodged a low slice from Jack, and swung his longsword up and down onto Jack, a move that would split a mortal in two. Jack grabbed the blade between two gauntlets and kicked Sparrows feet, causing Sparrow to lose balance and fall backwards. As Sparrow collapsed, Jack acted quick and stomped Sparrow in the gut, causing a crunch of the ribs splitting. Sparrow shrieked, and within an instant Brian had risen from his feet, swinging rifle in one hand and knife in the other.

"Son of a bitch," yelled an anger-fueled Brian at Jack. Jack was deftly dodging Brian's thrusts with the dagger and swings with the golden rifle. Jack jumped back, and Brian threw the knife directly into Jack's torso, covered with chain mail. Incredulously, the blade stuck between the chain links and steam rose from the fresh wound. Brian swung his rifle with both hands at Jack, and caught Jack in the side as he was ducking, trying to retrieve the knife. Jack rolled over, and a streak of lightning shocked the immortal, sent from the injured Sparrow from a few feet away. Jack's sword flew away from him, and was stunned momentarily by the electric conduction.

Brian, sweat dripping from his face, let out a blood curdling roar as Jack removed the knife from his chest and threw it at Sparrow. Brian ran and dove, knocking the knife away from its intended target. Jack lunged into the air at his two targets, both on the ground. Jack landed on Brian, who was waiting to transfer the motion backwards. Jack tumbled, and Brian landed on top. Brian sent a punch aimed at the porcelain mask, but Jack grabbed the fist and squeezed with a demonic strength, braking Brian's hand and turning it into a bloody, crushed mess. Brian roared in agony, and was thrown to the side. Jack went to retrieve his katana, but was confronted with a standing, but badly injured Sparrow.

The sword was in between the two adversaries, and both opponents blasted magic at each other at the same moment. The combined blast of energy sent the two combatants flying into the air several feet apart. Sparrow flew over the side of the stone bridge, and rolled down a hill of sand into the near arctic waters. Meanwhile, Jack had landed safely on his feet, uncontested by either Brian or Sparrow.

And then Jack began to make figures into the air with his armored hands, and blue energy stayed with the strange symbols he made. He began to yell into the wind.

"MOTHER," screamed Jack, as the wind began to rise. "FATHER! JOIN M--"

His scream was stopped with a bullet piercing his side. "ENOUGH!" he screamed with rage, and a particularly large fireball screamed towards Brian, who had to sprint to dodge the attack. Jack continued writing his energy symbols into the air, until he was surrounded by a circle of the writing. Brian began to run full speed towards Jack, but was caught off balance as a vortex of wind formed around Jack, sealing him from sight. The earth began to shake violently, and Brain decided to focus the best of his efforts on retrieving his father from the river.

And with good timing, too. Sparrow's hand was about to slide into the blackness that was the river, until it was saved by a familiar grip. His son had saved him at the very last possible moment. Brian supported his father out of the water, up the hill, and into the plaza, where a black vortex had formed around Jack, sealing him from view.

In a minute or two the vortex opened, revealing Jack standing with the Knight and Queen of blades.

And so father and son ran from their kingdom, and into the harsh winter night. Jack had conquered Albion, at least for the moment.

The three great evils basked in the glory of their victory, before slaughtering the remaining townsfolk and situating themselves in the throne room of the ancient smoking mess that is the Fairfax Castle.


End file.
